


In The Shadow of Starlight

by BaconFlavoredGum



Series: In The Shadow Of Starlight [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Cults, F/M, M/M, Redemption, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaconFlavoredGum/pseuds/BaconFlavoredGum
Summary: Borderlands 3 AU: Troy Calypso has been exiled from the Children of the Vault. Humiliated and undermined, he wants nothing more than to get revenge on his twin sister Tyreen. He comes to realize he possesses a great power, a terrible dark power, but doesn't yet know how to unlock it. With the help of some unlikely companions, Troy uses any means necessary to combat the Children of the Vault and prove himself deserving of the title God King.
Relationships: Troy Calypso/Original Character(s)
Series: In The Shadow Of Starlight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687297
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	1. The Fall

A convoy of technical vehicles sped through the desert towards a recently sighted pillar of fire. Octavia looked out the vehicle’s backseat window as they raced toward a rising plume of smoke in the distance. The sun hovered just above the horizon. Orange light cast long shadows that stretched over the dust dunes. Pandora was beautiful when everything on it wasn’t trying to kill you.

It had only been four days since the Calypso Twins had stolen the powers of the legendary Firehawk. Four days! And the Crimson Raiders were responding to distress calls nonstop. Octavia had barely kicked her feet up after returning from the last one before she received the message to rejoin the convoy. Reports poured in from all across the planet. With their limited manpower, it was a struggle to keep up. 

So much had changed recently between the warring factions. Octavia recapped the events in her head to keep things straight.

The Calypso Twins were self-proclaimed gods leading a cult called the Children of the Vault. Tryeen Calypso- one of six powerfully magical beings called sirens- could leech the life force from any living thing, draining them until nothing remained but a hollow husk. She managed to absorb the powers belonging to the commander of the Crimson Raiders, another siren named Lilith, famously known as the Firehawk. 

Tyreen was having fun with her newly acquired powers by teleporting her brainwashed cultists around everywhere in a telltale pillar of fire, spreading their influence by broadcasting videos of their raids on the Echo net.

Troy Calypso was the propaganda mastermind who operated mostly behind the scenes, editing videos of murderous raids and turning them into slapstick jokes, air horns and all. His weapon of choice was an enormous sword wielded in a cybernetic arm. Although he spent most of his time out of the spotlight, Troy proved to be equally as brutal as his sister. 

In short, the Calypsos were powerful monsters with hordes of mindless followers at their disposal, hell-bent on becoming the brightest stars in the sky while watching the universe burn at their feet.

The Crimson Raiders were doing everything they could to keep that from happening. That included Octavia. She fidgeted with the long sleeves of her shirt. Her anxiety sat heavy in her stomach like a chunk of eridium. She held up her arm to check the device attached to her wrist for what must have been the twelfth time. Straps secure, poison darts loaded, compression mechanism functional, safety off. Oops. She flicked the safety switch on and pulled her sleeve back over it. The last thing she needed was to accidently shoot a poison dart at anyone.

She always hated being asked to come along on these calls. She wasn’t much of a fighter. Ah, who was she kidding? She was damn near useless. Octavia set her medical bag onto her lap to remind herself why they needed her there. The Crimson Raiders fought the bad guys, and Octavia patched up the good guys.

She didn’t claim to be a doctor, nor was she legally allowed to. She was an herbalist. Ever since Dr. Zed went missing, Octavia stepped in as the primary medic. What she wouldn’t give to be back in her greenhouse right now.

Lilith looked back from the driver’s seat. “I know that look. Are you psyching yourself out?”

“As always. Is it that obvious?” Octavia thought she was holding herself together better than last time. Of course, Lilith always picked up on little things like that. Not much gets past the commander of the Crimson Raiders. Maybe intuition comes with the job. 

Lilith smiled. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. We’ll clean up this mess and be back up in Sanctuary in no time.” Her golden eyes glinted as she drove, fiery red hair slightly muted with dust that settled everywhere on this planet. It was still strange to see uniformly fair skin on her arm which was once wrapped in blue glowing siren marks. No one called Lilith the Firehawk anymore, avoiding what that implied. Even though she was no longer a siren, she continued to live up to her legendary status.

The technical’s radio crackled. “We’re almost there,” said a female voice. “Let’s stop here outside the entrance.”

There already? Octavia looked out the window at the camp before them. Its high scrap metal fence made it impossible to see inside. The Children of the Vault were probably tearing the place apart shouting the Twin Gods’ praises. 

Lilith picked up the radio’s microphone and responded, “Copy that, Maya.” The technical came to a stop. Lilith grabbed an SMG from the passenger’s seat. Turning once again to Octavia, she asked, “You ready?”

Octavia squeaked, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She gulped in an attempt to force her heart down from her throat and opened the door.

Before them stood a rundown camp that looked abandoned. Smoke billowed from somewhere inside. It was relatively quiet. No bandits screaming, no gun fire, no explosions; just a distant metallic screech. Crimson Raider soldiers filed out of the technicals parked beside them. Lieutenant Cramer stood at the ready. He was an older man that exuded pure military discipline. If you got out of line, he was the one to whip you back into shape. And he enjoyed doing it.

Maya’s electric blue hair and siren marks made her stand out like an orchid the desert. A hood was pulled over her head, coat flowing behind her in the breeze as she walked swiftly over to Lilith.

“Strange, it’s never this calm,” said Maya.

“Stay on your toes. By now, we should know better than to underestimate them,” Lilith warned. 

Once the whole group gathered around, Lilith gave everyone their instructions. “Maya, you and I will stay outside with teams Beta and Charley. Octavia, wait in the technical, and be on standby. Lieutenant Cramer, take team Alpha through the front gate. Stay alert and keep an eye out for survivors. I wanna see everyone back in Sanctuary at the end of the day. Let’s do this.” The soldiers spread out. Lilith gave a nod to Lieutenant Cramer. The battle scarred veteran nodded in acknowledgement. He began giving orders to his team and used hand gestures that Octavia wasn’t familiar with. 

Octavia climbed into the front seat of the technical as instructed. She took a deep breath steadying her nerves. She was definitely going to her greenhouse for some kragweed after this. The view from the windshield gave a better vantage point of the area. She gripped her dart gun concealed on her wrist, praying she wouldn’t have to use it.

Team Alpha was about to make their move when Cramer held up his fist signaling to halt. The screeching sound had grown so loud it made Octavia want to grind her teeth together. Maya held her hand in front of her, fingertips sparking and siren marks flaring to life. All eyes and guns were on the entrance prepared to meet what was about to emerge. Showtime. The gates swung open.

The hunched figure of a man limped out dragging a heap of machinery behind him. Wires sparked from the twisted metal as it scraped along the ground. Upon first glance, it was easy to miss that the machinery was actually attached to the man; a cybernetic arm that threatened to tear itself from the shoulder. Blood stained the dirt behind him in a dotted trail as he hobbled forward. The screeching stopped when the figure paused and looked up. Oh, shit.

Lilith’s eyes widened in horror. “What the hell,” she whispered under her breath.

_Troy Calypso._

The once mighty God King himself stood before them in a mangled mess. He’d been stripped of his ornate coat and oversized sword. His ribs slid feebly beneath tanned skin as his breath rattled inside his bare chest. The iconic side swooped hairstyle had fallen; his black hair soaked in blood and stuck to the side of his face. One side of his modified jaw slacked as if hanging from a broken hinge.

Octavia had briefly seen Troy in the cult’s live stream videos, doing terrible things like having the chat guess how many people he could cleave through at once. Countless people died at this man’s hands as he laughed and broadcast their deaths. That same man now stood in front of them broken and bleeding, and Octavia was paralyzed with shock.

She jumped as Lilith broke the silence. Lilith called out to him, “What happened to you?”

Troy lifted his gaze. His icy blue eyes scanned across the teams of Raiders, passing over Octavia making her blood run cold. After focusing on Lilith, he cocked his head to the side and started to laugh which quickly turned into a wet cough. He gasped for air, then spat onto the ground. Gold capped canines glinted through a bloody smirk. “What, this?” He glanced down to his mechanical arm as it popped sending a shower of sparks bursting from it. “Ah, y’know. Got denounced, excommunicated, and left for dead in the middle of nowhere. How was your day?”

Lilith was stunned. She seemed to be at a loss for words at his flippant response. The expression on her face was more confusion than fear. Octavia wished she could say to same for herself. 

Maya pressed further, “Excommunicated? Are you saying you got thrown out of the Children of the Vault?”

“Yeah, well. Guess I overstepped my boundaries with the God Queen. She labeled me a heretic, and our followers turned on me. Not really much I could do to fight back. Must be nice,” Troy pointed to Maya with his remaining human arm covered in unmistakable red glowing marks, “to be a functional siren.”

No, it couldn’t be. Troy Calypso was a siren? Octavia was far from being an expert, but it was common knowledge that sirens were always female. This would make the first male siren known in history. Male sirens were unheard of, thought to be impossible. 

Maya lowered her voice to Lilith, speaking just loud enough for Octavia to overhear. “This doesn’t feel right. It could be a trap. What do we do?” They didn’t seem to be surprised at this revelation. Did they already know?

“I’m not sure. He’s in pretty bad shape. Do you think Tyreen would do this to her own brother to pull one over on us?” Lilith concluded. 

‘Pretty bad shape’ was a drastic understatement. No one would willingly do this to themselves, especially someone as egocentric as Troy. Something was definitely off here. He must have done something pretty bad to get disowned and banished by his twin sister. Octavia shuddered at the thought.

Octavia jumped from the vehicle. Lilith and Maya turned to her after hearing her feet hit the dirt. “If he doesn’t get medical attention soon, he’s going to die,” Octavia interjected. “The COV is unpredictable, but I don’t think they’d go so far as to beat one of their Gods within an inch of his life just to trick us.” After receiving questioning looks, she added, “Th-that’s just my opinion.” 

Lilith was quiet for a moment, deep in thought before reaching a decision. “Bring him in for questioning.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Maya’s voice echoed. After being shushed by Lilith, she continued in a strained whisper, “This guy is dangerous. There’s no way we can take him to Sanctuary. He could be lying.”

“Then we keep a close eye on him.” Lilith returned her attention to Troy. He hadn’t moved, standing in a growing pool of blood and oil. He simply waited for the Crimson Raiders to decide his fate as if he lacked the strength to do anything else. “Octavia, can you keep him from bleeding out?”

“Of course,” she responded. That was her job, and she was damn good at it. Although- “I don’t know much about cybernetics.”

“We should talk to Ellie. Luckily, she’s stationed at an outpost nearby. We’ll take Troy there until we can decide how to move forward,” said Lilith. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. We’ll figure it out.” 

Maya stopped glaring as if she didn’t realize she was doing it. “Sorry,” she said and directed the glare at Troy instead.

What the hell were they getting into?


	2. Negotiating With Gods

Octavia took a deep breath outside the door, steadying herself in preparation for what Lilith asked her to do. How did she get into these situations? A week ago, she was in her room, sipping on a Moxx-tail and watching a Lord of Skags stream on the EchoNet. Today, she was interrogating the cult leading, pseudo-siren monstrosity known as the God King. Lieutenant Cramer wasn’t making things any easier. He was ready to go. She stumbled when Cramer clapped her on the back a bit too forcefully.

“Enough waiting around. Chin up, kid,” he said. Shouldering his gun and wasting no more time, Cramer kicked the door open. “Look alive, rat boy!"

Troy sat with his head resting on a small table at the center of the dimly lit holding cell. The walls and floor were made of concrete. The only entrances were two heavily reinforced steel doors. The door at the front of the room was the one they had entered. The other one was at the back beside a wide mirror that took up the majority of the wall.

Troy lifted his head. “Aw, that’s adorable. They employ senior citizens here. At ease, Pops. The Corporate Wars ended a while ago,” he said.

Octavia braced herself while giving Cramer a sideways glance.

“Wipe that pedophile smile off your face, boy! I have gray pubes older and wiser than you!” Cramer yelled, his face nearly turning purple.

Troy sneered at him, slowly rising from his chair and standing at his full height. He towered over Cramer in an intimidating display. The sporadically sparking remains of his damaged cybernetic arm dangled from his shoulder. The red light of his siren marks cast eerie highlights across the angled features of his face.

Octavia stayed close to the door, unsure how this would play out.

Cramer was unimpressed and got right down to business. The dude had nerves of steel. “Commander Lilith has ordered the removal of that smoking fire hazard you’ve been dragging behind your sorry ass. Ellie will be doing the honors. You are expected to behave yourself.”

“And if I don’t behave?” Troy challenged.

Ellie entered the room right on cue. “Then yer gonna make this a lot harder than it needs ta be.” Octavia had met Ellie a few times before. She was a squat, stout woman wearing overalls, every pocket filled with tools and gadgets. “Let’s just git through this. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do.”

Troy put his hand over his chest feigning a broken heart. “Hey, that hurts my feelings.”

Ellie ignored him and flipped her welding mask down over her face with a nod of her head, plasma cutter in hand. Troy got the message and sat down. Loose cybernetic parts dangled from the back of his neck. He winced when Ellie reattached them into the bleeding ports of his spinal implant. The mechanical arm barely hung onto his right side by chucks of charred metal and wires. Ellie removed the arm with little effort. When she reached to do the same with the shoulder brace, Troy grabbed her arm with his remaining flesh hand before she was able to touch it.

“Leave it,” Troy said through clenched teeth.

Ellie yanked her arm from his grip. “Suit yerself. I’m gonna fix the hinges on yer jaw modification. The higher-ups are comin’ and I don’t want ya droolin’ all over the place. Open up.”

Troy slurped and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His modified jaw split open at the chin revealing rows of pointed fangs. He leaned closer to Ellie, flicking his long tongue. Dear god, Octavia thought. She forced herself to look away.

Ellie was in no mood to put up with any shit. “I could smother you under one tit, string bean! Now back off ‘fore I decide ta weld yer monster mouth shut.”

Unable to articulate, Troy growled in response but did as he was told. Ellie finished the touch ups in a matter of minutes. Without a word, she gathered her tools and stood. Troy snapped his jaws back in place and ran his fingers along the newly repaired hinges.

After finishing her job, Ellie walked over to stand by Octavia. She leaned close to Octavia’s ear and said, “That guy’s creepier than slow dancin’ with a hot corpse. Watch yerself.”

Octavia’s throat felt like sandpaper. She approached carrying her medical bag in what she hoped looked like a confident stride. Never in her worst nightmare did she think she’d meet the Calypso in person. He was thin and monstrously tall. His usual bulky, fur trimmed coat was missing which left his upper body completely exposed apart from the black collars around his neck. Lithe muscle slid beneath tanned, bruised skin. Radiant red siren marks coiled in looping patterns around his left arm and across the left side of his face. Icy blue eyes pierced through deep shadowed sockets with traces of black eye makeup smudged underneath.

“Like what you see?” Troy asked.

Octavia snapped out of her stare. Remembering her bedside manner, she extended her right hand to Troy. “Hello, Troy. My name is Octavia.” Troy raised an eyebrow at the gesture. Octavia quickly recoiled realizing that Troy didn’t have a right hand to shake with. “Right, sorry,” she said.

“Jesus. First the redneck mechanic, now an incompetent doctor.”

Octavia took offense to that, momentarily forgetting her nerves. “While I’m legally obligated to say I’m not technically a doctor, I am a highly qualified herbalist.” Octavia set her bag on the table. After putting on a pair of gloves, she pulled the stopper from a vial. “This is gonna sting.” She hesitated before touching him. Cautiously, she applied ointment to a laceration across Troy’s collarbone.

"Perfect. A witch doctor. Even better," he said sarcastically. He hissed in pain. "The hell is that? It reeks."

Octavia continued the application. “Scab root reduction. It’s a plant based antiseptic. It burns like hell and stinks just as bad, but it does the job.”

“Sorry I asked.”

Dried blood flaked from his skin as she applied more ointment to a lesion on his human shoulder. Uneasiness writhed in her stomach as her hands passed over the glowing red tattoos that adorned the limb. She expected them to feel warm to the touch, but they felt exactly like the rest of his skin.

The wounds were deep. She carefully cleaned and stitched them, working until she was satisfied that he was safe from infection. Much better, she thought, feeling pleased with herself. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the condition of the metal brace on his right shoulder. It bent inward in such a way that it likely put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on whatever tissues were underneath.

“I’d like to see the extent of the damage under your…” Octavia slipped the tips of her fingers beneath the shoulder brace.

Troy lunged forward and shoved her into the wall in one fluid motion. Her head bounced off the concrete causing her vision to blur. His forearm held her across the chest, his body flush against her, pinning her against the wall. Cramer reacted immediately and aimed his gun at Troy from across the room.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Troy’s threat was delivered in a hot whisper inches above her face. His lips curled back in a snarl revealing gold capped fangs on his canine teeth. The stench of blood on him was sickening. She couldn’t move, completely at his mercy.

“Stand down!” Cramer yelled, still aiming a Jakob’s shotgun at the side of Troy’s head.

There was a tremble in Troy’s grip. Octavia noticed he was using his weight rather than his strength to hold her in place. He drew sharp breaths while his lungs struggled with the effort. Despite his incredible endurance, he was still weak.

“Rat boy, if you think for one moment that I won't put a hole in that greasy head and watch your tiny brain drain out, you’ve got another thing coming! I said stand down!” Cramer repeated.

Troy’s enraged expression contorted into a playful smirk as he released Octavia and backed away. He raised two fingers to his brow in a mock salute to Cramer.

Octavia pressed a hand to her chest both to calm her pounding heart and to recover from just having the wind knocked out of her. Ellie rushed to her side to put a comforting arm around her. “You okay? He’s all bark ‘n no bite the way he’s in. He’s just tryin’ ta intimidate us.”

Octavia nodded. “It’s working.”

After collecting herself, Octavia took a seat across from Troy, who had reverted back to being aloof with his feet propped up on the table. He looked at her expectantly. This dramatic change in demeanor was unsettling. He was ticking time bomb begging for an excuse to explode.

Octavia cleared her throat. “I think it’s safe to assume that anyone else that found you in your condition today would’ve killed you on the spot.”

“Yeah, woulda been the smart thing to do. Which is why I can’t help but wonder why you chucklenuts didn’t,” Troy prompted.

“Lilith sees potential to make something of this circumstance, crazy as that sounds.” Octavia paused, wanting to choose her next words carefully. Her voice softened. “You’ve hurt a lot of people, Troy. This could be your shot at redemption.”

Troy snickered. “Redemption? Yeah, no thanks. The only thing I’m after now is revenge.”

“You’re not the least bit interested? People are calling you a monster.”

“So what? You get in a God’s way, you get smited… smitten… smote? Whatever. Point is, fear turns out to be the perfect motivator. So if keeping the masses motivated makes me a monster, let them think what they want.” Troy nonchalantly rested his hand behind his head.

“That doesn’t bother you? Even if you’re not leading the Children of the Vault anymore?”

“Like I said, let them think what they want.” After a moment, Troy sighed heavily. He glanced at the mirror that ran across the length of the back wall and rolled his eyes. “I get why you Crimson Traitors see me as a monster. Tyreen and I attacking your commander and all. Before you decide to torture me or whatever you plan to do, let me just point out that I spoke up and stopped Tyreen from dusting your precious Firehawk.”

Octavia hesitated. She never knew exactly what happened the day Tyreen stole Lilith’s powers. If that was true- “Why would you do that?”

Troy shrugged. “I have my reasons.”

~~~

Lilith & Maya were listening in on the conversation behind the two way mirror from the connected observation room. It was obvious to Lilith that her siren companion was uncomfortable after this sociopath had subtly told them he knew they were watching. Maya shifted her weight from side to side, arms crossed, nervously drumming her fingers.

“I really don’t like this, Lilith."

“I’m not sure what to make of it either. If Troy is telling the truth about wanting revenge on Tyreen, he could help turn the tables in our favor. On the other hand, if this is all a trick and he’s still with the COV, it’d be bad news for all of us.”

Maya threw her hands up in frustration. “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t be taking any chances. There are a lot of people that we keep safe, including the ones inside that room. What would have happened to Octavia if Troy was at his full strength?” Of course she already knew what would’ve happened. “The Calypsos took your powers without a shred of mercy.”

Lilith interrupted, “That’s not entirely true. I’m standing here with you, aren’t I? Tyreen had me by the throat, drained my powers, and was ready to finish me off. But Troy stopped her. He said they were in a hurry to leave. I don’t know if I’d call that mercy, but it may not exactly be malice. I want to test where his loyalties lie. We convince him to cooperate, then we can decide how to use him.”

Maya huffed and resumed staring daggers through the two way mirror, her siren marks pulsing in reaction.

What a strange turn of events. Not in a million years did Lilith foresee a situation like this. One of the Calypso twins was in her custody seeking revenge on the other. It was too good to be true. She expected Troy to jump at the first chance to coordinate with the Raiders, but he refused. If he was trying to infiltrate, that would have been his way in. Did Tyreen really cast him out? What was the catch here? Lilith was determined to find out. Enough of this quiet observation. She opened the door, and entered the holding room.

Troy’s gaze instantly locked onto Lilith when she entered. His cold eyes followed her all the way up to the table at which he and Octavia sat. Though her composure didn’t falter, the contempt in his look made Lilith’s skin crawl.

Lilith put a hand on her hip. “Let’s assume what you’re telling us is true. You got denounced, and Tyreen made an example out of you. Surely some of your devoted followers would’ve wanted to help you out.”

“Some tried. There weren’t enough of them to cause a mutiny or anything.”

Octavia chimed in, “So there were others thrown out, too?”

“Maybe,” Troy said. "If there were, they must’ve been poofed somewhere else. I was alone when I got beamed out. It’s more likely that Tyreen ate them.”

At last, Lilith asked the question everyone was dying to know the answer to. “Troy, why did Tyreen kick you out of the Children of the Vault?”

“It’s a family matter. Kinda personal. I’m sure you understand.”

“We just want to make sense of your situation,” Octavia pleaded.

Troy looked back and forth between the two women a few times, then scrunched up his face. “Are you actually going for the good cop-bad cop routine?”

Octavia suggested, “We could both try bad cop.”

Lilith could tell this wouldn’t go anywhere. “Alright, fine. Keep your secrets. As you already know, the Crimson Raiders are pursuing Tyreen and the COV. As much as I hate to admit it, we could use each other’s help. You know the ins and outs of their entire operation. We’d like to offer you the chance to coordinate with us.”

The expression on Troy’s face was hard to read. “You do know who I am, right? Calypso twin, God King, ex-Holy Father of the Children of the Vault? After everything I’ve done, why would you want to offer me anything?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You’re still at the top of the shit list,” said Lilith.

Octavia cut in. “Embarrassingly, we don’t have much on the COV. We’re outnumbered and our intel is outdated. What have you got to lose? You know the saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ You get your revenge, we stop Tyreen from leeching the entire galaxy. Win-win.”

Troy was silent, those cold eyes narrowing skeptically. Losing patience, Lilith added, “Or Cramer could keep you company while you rot in a max security prison cell.”

Cramer still stood at attention at the front of the room. When the Calypso looked at him, a vein throbbed in Cramer’s neck and he shouted, “What are you lookin’ at, cock snot?”

“Pff! Screw that. If it gets me out this hellhole, then I’m in,” Troy said. He looked to Octavia. “I guess your good cop strategy worked after all."


	3. The Nature of the Beast

Pain shot through Troy’s jaw like electricity. The jolt from the blow rattled the chains holding his arms spread out to each side. He didn’t look up from his kneeling position, allowing his head to hang as fresh blood dripped from his lips.

A hand grabbed him by the chin and jerked his head upward. His vision sparkled, teetering on the edge of consciousness. Tyreen’s face came into focus. Her full lips curved into a deceptively warm smile. “All you have to do is answer the question, little brother. Where is it?” Her voice was as sweet as saccharin, sharply contrasted with the ruthless beating she dealt.

He tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a whimper. “Sounds like you should keep better track of your shit. Kinda childish, don’t cha think? Blaming your brother when your stuff goes missing.”

That earned him a kick in the ribs from her studded boot. There was an audible crack of breaking bone. Troy cried out and doubled over. Tyreen grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it so his face met with hers. Her eyes narrowed in a cold fury.

“You seem to be forgetting a teensy-tiny little detail. You are broken, you are a parasite. I am the only thing that’s keeping you alive, and you’re able to play God because I allow it. So it’s really not a good idea to piss me off.” She released her grip and caressed his cheek.

Several priests rushed to her side when she stood, eager to receive their next instructions to discipline the heretic. Tyreen gave her orders, “I always hated that ridiculous arm. Destroy it. That should knock him down a peg.” She turned once more to Troy before exiting and said, “You know I’ll find it sooner or later. We’ll see if you’re more talkative when I come back.”

Troy braced himself as the priests approached with bats and buzzaxes raised. What he wouldn’t give to be a real siren.

~~~

Troy awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat. He panted while inspecting his surroundings, half expecting to find himself still chained to the wall. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. _Funny_ , he thought sitting up on his cot. _Relieved to be waking up with the Crimson Traitors._

Most of his strength had returned over the past few days, but he was still recovering. Hopefully, his dreams in the future wouldn’t be plagued with those memories.

It was a long time coming, but he still couldn’t believe he had actually been excommunicated from the Children of the Vault. It was his home. All those countless hours and sleepless nights of writing scripts, editing video footage, and establishing business connections- straight down the toilet. He painstakingly crafted the Twin God personas himself. Everything he did was to make Tyreen look good, giving her the perfect camera angles, lighting, and choreography. All she had to do was read her lines and be a siren.

Once the cult was running full steam, Tyreen made it very clear that Troy had lost his usefulness. Keeping him alive became a burden that she was no longer willing to bare. She had been looking for any reason to get rid of him. And, boy, did he give her a good one.

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair with his new cybernetic hand. He still wasn’t used to it. That redneck mechanic knew quite a bit about prosthetic engineering. Very impressive considering she had no body modifications herself. This new arm was more proportionate to his body. The movement was smoother and less clunky than his old one. Also unlike his previous prosthetic, this one didn’t hurt to wear, being made from a lighter material. It could almost pass for a real arm if not for the subtle orange light emitting from between the gunmetal gray panels. He familiarized himself with the responsiveness by flexing the fingers.

Today was the day. This assignment couldn’t be over with soon enough. He was tired of being babysat. Plus it had been way too long since he ripped into a warm body.

Troy rummaged through the dresser to find something to wear. He settled for a black tank top, a sleeveless jacket, and cargo pants. The Crimson Raiders had tried to give him standard issue uniforms, but there was no way in hell he’d wear those even if they did have his size. Honestly, he would’ve preferred to remain shirtless, but Lilith shut that down saying it was inappropriate. He liked when his tattoos and siren marks were fully visible. Not to mention that showing a little skin made some people easier to manipulate. The Firehawk was apparently immune to his charm.

After pulling on steel toed boots, Troy exited his room. Two Raiders were posted outside. Troy was sick of these guys. He couldn’t so much as wipe his ass without someone watching over him. He curled his lips back, stuck his tongue out, and leaned into the unlucky soldier closest to him. The Raider flinched. _Bitch._ Troy pushed past him and started down the hall toward the common area, closely escorted by both guards. 

The smell of breakfast wafted through the halls. Other Raiders gave him a wide berth as he passed by. Many of them were leaving now that he’d entered the mess hall, which was a normal occurrence at this point. He helped himself to a plate of food and sat at a table, escorts standing nearby.

Troy had just taken a sip of coffee when a large book slammed onto the table. He nearly spit all over the witch doctor girl as she took a seat across from him. A bit confused, he looked around the room spotting many other empty tables, then looked back to his unwanted companion.

"There are other tables in here, you know. I definitely don't need company," Troy said. He hoped she would have taken the hint days ago. She didn’t scare as easily as everyone else. In any previous circumstance, he would’ve gotten the message across by caving her skull in underneath his boot. Unfortunately, the two armed guards glued to his sides prevented him from making his point the way he was accustomed to. He had to admit, she was annoyingly persistent.

The girl shrugged and continued unpacking her bag. "Yeah, but I never see you talking to anyone. Besides, this is my usual table. It's got the best light for reading."

“You are the biggest nerd I’ve ever met, and I've crashed a larping convention,” Troy said. He bit into a piece of toast and tried to ignore her. Her book’s crazy long title caught his eye.

_The Changing Faces of War: A Field Study of Combat Tactics Post Corporate War Era._

“What kind of encyclopedia are you reading, anyway?”

“Oh, um,” She snapped the book shut and pulled it under the table out of sight. “I was just… studying.”

“Uh huh. Not sure what you could learn from a book that you haven’t experienced yourself. It’s not like this is your first raid.” Her silence suggested otherwise. “This is your first raid, isn’t it?” he deadpanned.

“No, it’s not my first.”

"Alright, whatever." Troy took another sip of coffee.

She looked embarrassed as she sat the book back on the table. “Look. I’m not a soldier, okay? I’m used to providing support off the field. I’m not in the middle of the fight very often so I want to be as prepared as I can possibly be.”

“I don't really care. Just curious if you were popping your combat cherry,” Troy said. He noticed her fiddling with the long sleeves of her shirt. Nervous habit, he guessed. “Me, on the other hand- I’ve got years of experience. Not to toot my own horn, but beep-beep. With me around, it's an easy win.”

Troy popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. At least, he assumed the greasy strip of gristle was bacon. So the witch doctor wasn’t staying behind this time. He wondered if she had enough sense to avoid being taken out too quickly. Not that he cared. But she was one of the only people here who tolerated him.

Getting antsy, Troy’s leg bounced as he finished his breakfast. Usually, he didn’t eat before a raid. A full stomach slowed him down. Lately, however, he felt so weak. He needed all the strength he could get. It was only a matter of time until the withdrawals would start. He had a week, maybe two before he was in real trouble. But that was a problem for another day.

“All Crimson Raiders assigned for deployment report to the motor pool,” the PA system announced.  
The witch doctor gathered her books and notes back into her bag, and said, “That means us. I’ll see you down there.”

~~~

About two dozen Raiders gathered outside. The desert heat rising from the dust made the horizon waver in the distance. Troy wondered how these soldiers didn’t cook alive inside their armor. Among the gathering were the old lieutenant, the blue haired siren, and the Firehawk.

The witch doctor was lightly armored. The most interesting piece was the leather belt around her waist holstered with small, glass bottles. So she wasn’t kidding after all. She was really going to fight. Were they expecting to need a medic on the field? Sure, she was feisty but definitely didn’t strike him as a fighter. He’d have to make sure she didn’t get herself killed.

Lilith perched herself on the front of a technical vehicle. All attention turned to her. “Alright. You all know what to do. This is the last stepping stone to cross before we can land a serious blow on the COV. Let’s take these bandits out quick and clean. Good luck, Raiders. Maya and I look forward to seeing you when you get back.”

Troy rolled his eyes. Of course they weren’t coming. To hell with them.

Everyone moved with purpose. They had obviously done this many times before. Today was probably just routine to them. Many soldiers were loading up on ammo and grenades preparing for the battle ahead.

Speaking of which- “Hey. Do I get a weapon, or am I ripping heads off barehanded?” Troy asked Lilith. She motioned behind him. He turned to see the blue haired siren carrying a large, metal case. She laid it down, flicked the latches open, and lifted the lid.

Inside laid a single-edged longsword. Orange accents ran down the back and across the flat of the broad blade. It lacked a guard, making it more of a cleaver. The overall design was simple but sleek.

Lilith picked it up from the case. “All yours,” she said, offering the weapon to Troy.

He wrapped the metal fingers of his right hand around the handle. Instead of releasing her hold, Lilith gave a tug towards herself which caused Troy to lurch forward. Her voice hardened, “This is your first time fighting with us. We’re giving you a chance to prove you can be trusted. Don’t make me regret this.” She let go of the sword.

“Tch.” Troy didn’t feel that warranted more of a response. He weighed the sword in his right hand, waving it lightly through the air. The metal of the black leather bound hilt balanced the heavy blade impeccably. He gave a few more swings, adjusting to a wider stance to compensate for the weight. Not bad, he thought.

Ignoring him entirely, the blue haired siren said, “Everyone’s ready. No changes since the last recon, so they’re just waiting for you to give the green light.”  
“Let’s go green."

The old lieutenant ushered everyone to their assigned vehicles, making a point to stuff Troy in the backseat. Whatever. Troy was so amped up, he didn’t care. He’d spent too long pinned under the Crimson Raiders’ thumb, and now he had a new weapon to break in. It was almost time to let loose.

~~~

It was a quiet ride. Octavia sat in the passenger’s seat of the technical vehicle, which was being driven by a fully armored Crimson Raider while Troy squirmed uncomfortably in the back. No one spoke much during the drive, focused on the task ahead.

“I think we’re getting close,” Octavia said. She met Troy’s black lined eyes in the rearview mirror. “Do you remember the plan?”

Troy stretched his long limbs as far as he could while crammed into the backseat. “Kill everybody. Not exactly a complicated plan.”

“More or less. These bandits aren’t affiliated with any clans so we won’t face any retaliation. After we neutralize them, it’s a clear shot between our outpost and the COV’s Holy Broadcast Center.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” He pulled his hood over his head, clearly not interested in chatting.

The convoy came to a stop behind a rock formation. Octavia and the driver both exited the vehicle. Troy followed suit.

Octavia felt her mouth go dry. The sun was directly overhead which provided no shade to take refuge from the midday heat. Without a breeze, the air hung thick and heavy. Octavia fidgeted with her shirt sleeves at her wrists. For a split second, she wished she’d worn a t-shirt. She silently laughed at herself. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore short sleeves, and she doubted she ever would again. Security over comfort...

Soldiers unloaded from the vehicles and began to form up as Lieutenant Cramer assigned positions. Octavia was grateful she was placed at the center of the formation. Her heart pumped adrenaline through her veins in anticipation. She hadn’t been in the middle of the action in quite a while. She tried to have the confidence of the other soldiers, but she was nervous. Troy took his place on the front line. With him at the lead, Cramer signaled to begin the march.

They moved into the open toward the small camp. A makeshift fence surrounded several tents and a few buildings. The area looked like it may have once been a farm. A bandit lookout spotted the invaders from a scaffold tower and sounded an alarm. Commotion broke out inside, bandits running and yelling in preparation for the oncoming attack.

Suddenly, the crack of a rifle ripped through the air, immediately followed by a heavy thud as one of the Raiders dropped to the ground. Another crack, and another Raider fell to the dirt. 

“Sniper!” Cramer yelled.

Octavia rushed to the nearest fallen soldier. Before she was able to assess the damage, she was lifted back to her feet. Troy released his grip on her armored vest, and said, “No time. Keep moving.” _Shit_ , she thought, breaking into a run. No one predicted the small group of bandits would have a sharpshooter. They had to get closer, or they were going to get picked off.

Troy sprinted for the gates ahead of everyone. The rest of the Raiders struggled to keep up. More of them were caught in the sharpshooter’s sights. Men continued to drop around her as they desperately ran for the entrance. Octavia nearly tripped over a Raider who fell in front of her.

At last, they reached the gate, out of the sniper’s line of sight. Octavia counted six bodies laying in the dust behind them. She wanted to help. Forgive me, she mentally apologized to them. Troy smashed through the front gates with one powerful kick and they charged inside.

Immediately, Octavia dove for cover from the ensuing gunfire behind a concrete barrier. She peeked around its side to keep an eye on her comrades. Explosions erupted from all around. Psychos rushed forward with grenades strapped to their chests. Body parts flew everywhere. Larger bruisers wielding flamethrowers followed close behind. 

Octavia took shots with her dart gun at bandits that got too close. All that target practice was paying off. While taking aim, a buzzaxe stuck in the ground in front of her. Her eyes met with a masked psycho’s. She ducked back behind the barrier in hopes that he would move on. Just when she thought she was in the clear, a deranged voice screamed from above her, “The meat puppet came to the slaughter!”

She rolled to the side, barely avoiding a swipe of the psycho’s buzzaxe. Scrambling to her feet, she ran. The psycho jumped the barrier after her. Don’t panic, she reminded herself. She pulled a bottle from her belt and chucked it at her pursuer. Direct hit. It smashed into his face, covering him in caustic liquid. The mask disintegrated, and he clawed at the sizzling flesh beneath it. “Bad friend! Such a bad friend!” he shrieked.

She should have known better than to stop running. That hit would have incapacitated anyone else, but not a psycho. He lunged at her, catching her around the waist. They both toppled to the ground. The psycho’s skin melted and dripped onto her face while he leaned over her. “Give me the spices. I’m going to season this turkey!” With both hands, he raised his buzzaxe over his head.

“No, stop,” Octavia snarled. Her arms were pinned to her sides beneath her opponent’s knees. Frustrated tears stung the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t free herself. This was it.

In a flash of orange, her would-be killer’s torso split perfectly in two from shoulder to hip, covering her in a spray of blood and viscera. Troy wore a feral grin as he slung the blood from his blade with a flick of his wrist. He flourished his sword in another orange blur. “Move!” he called to her. He cackled while he swung his blade like a baseball bat, sliced through an attacker’s neck, and sent his head soaring through the air.

She turned to find cover once again, racing through the crossfire. Not quick enough. A white hot pain tore through the back of her shoulder as a bullet punched its way into the flesh. She stumbled but continued running to safety.

She slipped inside of a shack where other Crimson Raiders were firing from the windows. She retrieved a bandage from her pouch and quickly wrapped her wounded shoulder. Although the pressure intensified the burning sensation, the adrenaline kept the pain at bay for the moment. A scan across the area revealed there were more Raiders than bandits. They were winning.

“Ah! It’s the God King!” a bandit screamed, sprinting past the front of the shack.

Troy was at the center of the chaos. His jaw had unhinged, belting out primal roars and tearing out throats with his fangs. He moved in circles, keeping the sword in motion and continually changing his stance; a well practiced dance of death.

So this was the infamous monster known as the God King.

A high pitched whistle carried over the sounds of battle, bringing the fight to a stop. The few remaining bandits rushed in formation around a building at the back of the camp.  
Crouching atop the building was the sharpshooter, smiling beneath a wiry beard. He wore an eye patch over his left eye and a bandanna tied around his bald head. The sniper scope was aimed directly at Troy.

The sharpshooter’s booming laugh echoed through the silence. He lowered his rifle. “Well, slag me! If it isn’t Troy bloody Calypso, the God King himself. I didn’t expect to ever see that gaping maw again. You just can’t stand to be without your favorite heathen, can you?”

Octavia looked to Troy who squinted up at the one-eyed man. A growl rumbled in Troy’s chest before his blood drenched jaws snapped closed. He stared at the man with as much confusion as the rest of the Raiders. Then, his face lit up.

“You son of a bitch!” Troy bounded forward. The sharpshooter jumped from the roof, landing on his feet with a thump. The bandits allowed Troy to pass, and the two clasped hands like old friends. “How’d you make it out? I thought for sure you’d be dead.“

Crimson Raiders exchanged confused looks with each other. What the hell was happening?

“Come on. Give me some credit, mate. You of all people should know I don’t go down so easy,” the man said, flashing a debonair smile. “I see you’ve got a new smiting arm to strike down the nonbelievers.”

“Yeah, first time using it actually. Do I pull it off or what?” Troy spun in a circle to model his prosthetic arm.

That’s it. Octavia cradled her wounded arm and shouted, “What the fuck is going on?!” The two men turned their attention to the woman storming her way towards them. “This guy just killed at least six of us. Why the hell are you being all chummy?” The Crimson Raiders murmured in agreement.

The bearded man replied, “To be fair, love, you attacked us.”

She opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. Good point.

Troy lightly punched the man on his shoulder. “Relax, he’s cool. This was my highest ranked general in the COV. His name’s Raz. Lame, right? This guy’s apparently a lot smarter than he looks for making it out of that place alive.”

“Piss off,” Raz said to the backhanded compliment.

“And Raz, this is… uh…” Troy scratched the back of his neck.

“Really? You still don’t know my name?” Octavia asked. She shouldn’t be surprised. “It’s Octavia.”

“Right,” Troy clicked his tongue and shot her a finger gun.

Raz plunged into an exaggerated bow. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Octavia. If there’s any way I can make myself useful, don’t hesitate to ask ol’ Raz.”

Was this dude for real? It was hard to tell if he was being genuine or a smart ass. Though his intentions were unclear, he was undeniably charming. Octavia said, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that. After being around Troy for so long, I was beginning to think everyone from the COV were ill-mannered and soulless.”

There was a gasp from the bandits. Raz blinked at her for a moment. Then burst into another belly laugh. “Buhaha! That’s a good one! He’s a real brute, isn’t he?”

“Hey,” Troy said.

Raz continued, “There’s some remnant of a soul rattling around in there. Sure, he can be calculative and manipulative at times, but ya gotta admit, the guy’s wicked smart. There was this one time he figured out a way to help me out of a spiderant web. Don’t ask how I got stuck. Of course, he did blackmail me after that-”

Troy raked his fingers down his face. “Jesus, shuddup! Helping or hurting, Raz?”

“Well, this is heartwarming,” Cramer strolled up to the group. The bandits took a nervous step back as Cramer approached with shotgun in hand. “Raz, was it? I’m Lieutenant Cramer of the Crimson Raiders, and I am in charge of this operation.”

“Crimson Raiders? You don’t say,” Raz said. He looked all too amused when he shot Troy a smug grin.

Troy averted his eyes. “Long story.”

“Alright then, Lieutenant.” Raz crossed his arms. “Tell me. Why have you intruded into our humble home and massacred nearly all of my men?”

“Because you are worthless bandit scum that are stealing the oxygen from the rest of society! And there you stand, still tainting my air. I intend to finish what we came here for.” He cocked his gun.

What was he doing? Raz and the bandits sensed the tension and stood defensively. Troy fell into a fighting stance beside them. There was no need to start another fight. The Raiders had lost men already, and it looked like they wouldn't have Troy on their side this time. Octavia had to diffuse the situation. “Cramer, take it easy. They aren’t clan affiliated. They’re out here on their own." If only Lilith was here. Wait a minute. It may be a stretch, but Octavia had an idea. "We could recruit them.”

Cramer paused. “Need I remind you that we’re here to eradicate this camp?”

“No, we’re here to neutralize it. Look around. They’re done fighting. We should ask them to come to base,” Octavia stated.

Cramer puffed out his chest and stared down his hooked nose at her as if she were a bird with a broken wing. His voice dropped to a lower tone. “Your arm is the least of your troubles. I suggest you put a bandage over that bleeding heart, kid.”

“Where do you think Crimson Raiders come from? They’re victims with nowhere left to go.” He still wasn’t backing down. “Besides, that’s Lilith’s call. Not yours.” If looks could kill, she’d be dead in the dirt. “…Sir.”


	4. Mental Bullet Wounds

"Ah. Fuck!" Octavia was getting frustrated. Of course, she had to get shot in the most awkward spot possible. No matter how she twisted, she just couldn't get a good view of the bullet wound in her shoulder. It didn't help that this medical room didn't have the proper equipment for self surgery. She hadn’t had the time to order supplies, so all she had to extract bullets was a knife and a tiny wall mounted mirror.

She pulled her shirt down further off the shoulder and tried yet another angle to get a better look. Seeing the reflection of her back, she was reminded why she kept herself covered at all times. Nothing but ridged, pink scar tissue covered her entire back and extended beneath the collar of the shirt down both arms. It was disgusting. She hated it. Hated the way it looked, the way it felt, and the memories it brought up.

She saw tears welling up in the eyes of her reflection. What a sorry sight. She looked up and blinked away the tears, refusing to let them fall.

"Oh," came a voice in the room.

Octavia's stomach felt like it dropped to her ankles. She quickly covered up and turned to see Troy Calypso standing just inside the medical room, holding his side. He said, "I was going to tell you to stitch this up for me, but it looks like you could use a hand yourself."

"No, I got it," she snapped. Of course this guy didn't have the courtesy to fucking knock.

"Hm. That's funny. 'Cause from here, it looks like you're just making it worse by blindly digging around with that knife."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, but her self consciousness held her back. She tried so hard to make sure no one ever knew about her deepest shame, she couldn't let her defenses down that easily.

"You don't understand," she said, looking anywhere but the other man in the room.

"You really don't think the one armed cyborg would understand? C'mon. Let me take out that bullet so you can get started on sewing me up."

His gaze had focused on her, expression mixed somewhere between impatience, concern, and something else she couldn't put her finger on. Pulling her shirt down once again off the shoulder, she turned slightly and gestured her head towards her back.

She tensed as Troy crossed the room towards her, feeling her face get redder with each step. She turned facing away from him to give him access to the wound.

"You can use the switchblade on the table. Just push the button to open it," Octavia said.

"I do know how knives work," Troy said wryly. Octavia was about to retort, but the words were forgotten when she felt his fingertips sweep across the bare skin of her back. She shivered involuntarily. She hoped he didn't notice how much his light touch and close proximity was affecting her. To be honest, she didn't even want to admit it herself. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on sitting still.

Octavia couldn't help but flinch when the cool metal blade touched her skin and plunged into the wound.

"Ow! Be careful," Octavia hissed.

She could tell Troy was actually trying to remove the bullet without hurting her, but it was deeper than expected. Her eyes squeezed shut as he dove the tip of the blade further into the hole.

"It would be easier to be careful if you didn't move so much. Hold on. I think I got it." He held her shoulder for stability so he didn't accidentally cut her. He managed to angle the blade behind the tip of the bullet, slowly easing it out. After several long moments passed, he took the knife out and removed the metal object with his hand. Octavia yelped when he yanked it out. She turned to glare at Troy who only grinned and waved the bloody bullet in his hand.

"There. See, I know what I'm doing. Feel better?"

"Yeah," Octavia said. She ignored the heat in her cheeks as she pulled her shirt up over the exposed skin.

When Octavia thought back to when she first met the Calypso, she remembered thinking he was nothing but a monster. Now, she felt almost guilty for feeling that way. She owed him a lot. Not only for removing the bullet embedded in her shoulder but also for saving her life during the raid. She wanted to thank him, but just couldn't find the words to do it.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Troy pulled his tank top off over his head and laid down on the examination table. He beckoned her to come closer. Octavia’s eyes went wide at the implication. Was this how he wanted her to thank him? He pointed to a cut on the side of his abdomen. “Don’t tell anybody I got tagged by a tink. Little shit came out of nowhere.”

Oh, right… What was wrong with her? She had to get a grip. Embarrassed from misinterpreting things, she wordlessly began cleaning his injury. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. She hated needing help, but she hated her deformed body even more. That was a part of herself that she didn’t share with anyone. It was meant to stay hidden, locked away in the past where no one could reach it.

"So you wanna talk about it?" Troy asked. Octavia was becoming concerned with how well he was able to read her.

"Not really."

He slowly nodded, but didn’t look away from her. Her defenses were cracking under his steady gaze. She didn’t like how transparent he made her feel.

“Do you?” she asked, motioning towards his mechanical arm. It came out a little more aggressive than she meant it to.

Troy was still looking at her, but now as if he was trying to come to some sort of decision. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Touché, smart ass,” he teased.

Octavia was relieved he let that slide. She didn’t have the energy to deal with any more stress. Getting shot during a raid was enough for one day. She absentmindedly stitched up the wound, barely noticing the Calypso watching her as she worked.

“Good as new,” Octavia said, taping a gauze pad over the stitches.

Troy swung his long legs over the side of the examination table and stood. “Finally. I was getting bored. You really need some magazines or something in here,” he said, making his way across the room. _You’re welcome,_ Octavia thought bitterly.

Her annoyance faded when she noticed the Calypso begin to stagger. All the color drained from his face, and his eyes glazed over. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. Before he reached the door, Troy stumbled backwards into the counter with a loud crash. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he slumped to the floor unconscious.

~~~

Troy gradually regained awareness. He was still in the medical room, lying on an examination table. His skull felt like it would split in two. Involuntarily, he let out a groan.

“You’re awake.” Octavia’s voice came from somewhere behind him. She rushed to his side carrying a tray of herbs and stone tools.

“What… what happened?” Troy asked. He blinked at the lights overhead.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. You passed out,” she said.

Shit. He knew he was getting weaker. He checked the siren marks on his left arm, flexing and rotating his hand. Their usual glow had dimmed to the point where the marks looked like normal tattoos.

“Looks like the energy withdrawals are starting to hit pretty hard. Does anyone else know?”

“No, you’ve only been out for a few minutes. Take this.” Octavia said. She handed him a cup of thick, murky brown liquid that smelled like compost.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate milk. Just drink it.”

Troy turned his nose up at it before gulping it down. It was cold and viscous like slime that quite literally slid down his throat. It tasted like an entire spice rack stewed in swamp sludge. “Gah! C’mon, witch doctor. Why does everything you give me taste like you scooped it out of a toilet?”

After weeks of being teased and belittled for her profession, something in Octavia finally snapped. She coldly replied, “Well, excuse me, your highness. It’s medicine. It isn’t supposed to taste good. I’m an herbalist, not a witch doctor, and not one of your gourmet chefs.” She snatched the cup from Troy’s hands. “You could try showing a little fucking gratitude.” She stormed to the other side of the room slamming her tray on the counter.

A pang of guilt twinged in his gut. The silence lasted uncomfortably long. She had just given him medicine after he collapsed on her floor in a severely vulnerable state. He winced as he swallowed his pride.

“You’re right. Thank you, Vi.”

Octavia turned her head to look at Troy over her shoulder. Her face was flushed a light shade of pink, either still angry from his previous comment or flustered from this uncharacteristic response.

Troy continued, “Guess I owe you one. Thanks to you, Pandora is graced with my fine ass another day.”

“Pff, please. You don’t have an ass,” Octavia said as she eyed him up and down.

“Oh, really? Wanna see for yourself?” He rolled onto his side, put a thumb beneath his waistband, and tugged downward. Octavia yelped and squeezed her eyes closed.

“Don’t you dare!” she shouted.

Troy broke into a fit of laughter. Octavia tried to keep the stern look on her face by tightly pursing her lips together, but she failed and eventually cracked a smile. For the first time, the tension between them lifted. Troy realized that he liked seeing her smile.

The pleasantness of the moment didn’t last long as Troy was struck with another wave of vertigo. He leaned back onto the exam table. “Got any magic toilet water to keep me from keeling over again?”

“I’m not sure. We should talk to Professor Tannis. If there's anyone who knows about siren energy, it's her-”

Her voice faded as Troy’s head reeled again. He pressed his human palm to his temple to keep the room from spinning. He imagined how his followers would react to seeing their omnipotent leader faint. Did he even have followers anymore? Some god he was. 

This was the worst his withdrawals have ever been. All his life, Tyreen was right by his side to feed him energy when he needed it, even if she did call him a parasite for asking. That bitch knew he couldn’t survive without her. Banishing him was equivalent to letting him starve to death.

Troy was pulled from his thoughts feeling fingertips graze across his forehead, brushing the hair from his face.

“Did you hit your head? Does it hurt?” Octavia asked. Her delicate fingers were soft and cool on his skin. Her large emerald eyes scanned his face for signs of injury. A few strands of chestnut colored hair fell from her ponytail and framed her heart-shaped face.

A spicy floral scent emitted from her as she leaned over him. Her face was close enough to his that with a simple raise of his chin, he would find out if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He caught himself and pushed the traitorous thoughts from his mind. He looked away and swatted her hands off him. “No, it’s fine. Just a little lightheaded.”

 _Don’t,_ he scolded himself. She treated all her patients like this, right? She only cared about the health of the God King. Everyone always cared for the God King. Not long ago, he would have crushed every bone in her hand for having the audacity to touch him. No one ever gave a shit before. This was no different.

Troy slipped back into his persona and flashed a cocky grin.

“Besides, look who you’re talking to. Just for the sake of my quality of life though, we should go ahead and get a hold of, uh… crazy scientist lady.”

“Her name is Tannis.”

“That’s the one.”

~~~

Sanctuary. What a spectacular name for such a shithole. Only a handful of people roamed the halls, and Troy swore he saw a claptrap unit chasing a ratch around. He wasn’t sure what he expected Sanctuary to be, but it sure wasn’t this.

Time dragged on while Tannis got situated in the lab. It was entertaining watching her scurry around at first, trying to make sense of the unusual songs she sang to herself. Now Troy was bored, and no one else in the room attempted to make conversation. Curiosity finally got the better of him. “So, Martha.”

“It’s Maya,” the sapphire siren chided.

“Right. I’ve never met another siren other than my sister. What are your powers like?”

The corners of Maya’s mouth turned up into a grin. Surprisingly, she chose to indulge him. “I’m able to phaselock targets and suspend them in another dimension.”

“Whoa, that sounds rad.” He stood back and held his arms out. “Here, do me.”

“I am not going to phaselock you.”

He dropped his arms and pouted. “Aw, come on!”

Tannis lightly whacked him on the arm with her clipboard. “As tempting as it is to start a siren fight club, I’m afraid there are more pressing matters at hand. If you could stand still for a moment-” Tannis poked and prodded at him, occasionally saying things like, “fascinating.” Troy was hyper aware of how close she was to his right side, turning to keep her to his left as much as possible. He jumped when he felt a pinch on his ass. “Interesting,” Tannis said.

Maya helped get things back on track. “Alright. So far we know that Troy can’t absorb the life force from living things like Tyreen can, and she could somehow channel energy to him through touch. Is there anything else we have to work with?”

Troy wished there was. “Other than that, it’s all I’ve got. That’s just one part to my curse. Aside from being a defective siren, I’ve also been cursed with irresistible good looks.”

“Tch. You wish.” A dark blue haired kid scoffed from the back of the lab. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Troy hadn’t noticed her until now.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“I’m going to be a siren. An actual siren, not whatever you are. I’d put an end to assholes like you. I don’t know why we’re trying to keep you alive, honestly.”

Maya interrupted, “You’ll have to excuse my apprentice. Ava, stop threatening people with powers you don’t have yet. I said you could watch as long as you didn’t cause trouble.”

Ava’s tough girl act dropped. “I know. I’ll behave, promise. Please don’t kick me out.”

What a punk. “Okay, kid. You let me know if that siren thing ever works out for ya.” Troy clicked his tongue and winked at her. She shook with impotent rage, fists clenched at her sides like a child about to throw a tantrum.

Tannis was about to explode in anticipation, eager to start her experiments. “Well, cursed or otherwise, I find your physical attractiveness confusingly repulsive. That being said, I feel you have an important part to play in the coming days. So I’ve prepared several only mildly painful experiments. Now, where to start?”

Tannis was completely in her element, recording Echo logs and bouncing around Troy while he soaked in all the attention. His bask in the spotlight was short lived.

The tests began with the obvious catalyst for siren power, eridium. After trying different delivery methods, Troy got impatient and stupidly licked a chunk of raw eridium. Other than burning his tongue, it had no effect. Next, they attempted to transfer siren energy indirectly. Maya charged an Eridian artifact as a sort of battery for Troy to draw from. Again, no results.

After hours of trial and error, one failure after another, they’d concluded every test.

“I think we have to call it quits,” Maya admitted. She looked tired, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You gave it your best shot, Tannis.”

“How curious. It would seem Troy is a siren in tattoos only,” Tannis said, looking defeated.

Troy was exhausted. “This blows,” he said, sprawled out across the examination table, panting slightly from the exertion. “Don’t mind me, ladies. It’s not like my life depends on it or anything.” Troy caught Ava wearing a shit-eating grin and stuck his tongue out at her.

“I think we may be on the right track,” Tannis circled around the examination table, talking more to herself than to anyone else in the room. “Perhaps Troy’s cybernetics could be modified to include Eridian artifacts into the bio-integration components.”

Troy closed his eyes, grateful for a moment to rest. He had hoped Tannis would at least find a temporary solution to his dependency on Tyreen. He was running off of fumes. It was only a matter of time until his tank ran completely dry.

While he was busy worrying about his own mortality, Troy didn’t notice Tannis absentmindedly extending her hand until she touched his shoulder brace. He jolted from his lamenting. In an instinctual panic, he caught her bare wrist in his human hand.

A familiar flood of power surged through him. He threw his head back, caught in the sudden sensation. Red tendrils entwined his arm with Tannis’s, filling him with the strength his starving body so desperately craved. His siren marks blazed back to life in a brilliant flash of crimson.

Then, he was unable to move, frozen in place. Maya had activated her powers and suspended him in midair. So this was what being phaselocked felt like. His insides burned like the sting of frostbite. His breath caught in his throat, lungs refusing to function. Maya lifted him into the air and tossed him across the room away from Tannis. He yelled as he was sent careening into a counter full of lab equipment.

Maya helped Tannis up from the floor. A distinct blue glow peaked out from beneath one sleeve of her lab coat.

“I thought you could only take from Tyreen!” Maya said, her face drained of color.

Troy held up his left arm observing the intense light of his marks. “I guess it’s any siren.”

Ava pointed to the scientist’s glowing arm. “Tannis? You’re a…”

_A siren._


	5. The Sheep Will Flock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! It's been a little while. What with the pandemic and all, I've been working more and haven't had a lot of free time. Let me know how you like the series. It helps keep me motivated to continue writing. As always, I appreciate each and every one of you. <3

Squinting at the bottom of her mug, Octavia decided the tea dregs looked like a skag driving a cyclone. What kind of crazy fortune did that tell? She never believed in reading tea leaves, but after finishing her fourth cup, she was bored enough to recall what she knew. Stuff like this really didn’t help her reputation as a witch doctor.

She glanced up at the surveillance monitors displayed on the desk. Nothing unusual, just as it had been for the past few hours. 

Word traveled fast across the borderlands. After yesterday's raid, word was that the Crimson Raiders were lower on manpower. Lilith accepted Raz and his group of bandits into the Raiders on terms of probation and put them all to work. Even with these new additions, they were still short staffed. So until Octavia was needed back in orbit on Sanctuary, she was on guard duty.

Being stuck on Pandora without a greenhouse to retreat into was more difficult than she cared to admit. Luckily, she made a habit to pack an assortment of seeds and bulbs with her on missions like these. She was currently growing a few essential plants in her room. The necrophage had to be kept under the bed ever since her nosey neighbor got too close and ended up poisoning themselves.

Guard duty was boring. Playing games on her Echo device was impossible due to the limited use of her arm while her gunshot wound healed. Even making tea was a chore one-handed. She almost wished something would trip the alarm to break the monotony.

_Zt-zzzt!_

She fumbled the mug in her hands at the sound of the front enterence’s buzzer. The monitor showed three armed marauders waiting outside. She had to tell Cramer to sound the alarm.

“We’ve come to offer our skins to the God King!” a marauder declared through the intercom.

Ok. Maybe they weren't here to overtake the outpost. She called through her Echo device, “Lieutenant, you’re gonna want to see this.”

Cramer entered the room shortly after. Did this guy go anywhere without his armor? He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told the guy on the last shift I already saw the video of the two skags humping out back.”

“W-what? Ew, no. We’ve got company.” She pointed to the monitor where the three marauders were now kneeling at the front entrance.

One of them spoke again, “Father Troy, please accept our pledge to you. Down with the false god, Tyreen!”

Disgust practically dripped from Cramer’s face, a vein bulging from his neck. “For cryin’ out loud,” he snarled, and then snatched up the intercom’s microphone. “Your _god_ is out on a field trip. Now, I suggest you clear out of here before I shove my boots up your asses and wear you around like a new pair of bunny slippers.”

Octavia tried not to giggle at the mental image. The unwelcome visitors muttered amongst one another before turning around.

“Wait, Troy’s not here?” Octavia asked after processing the rest of what the lieutenant said.

“Negative,” Cramer said, eyes glued to the security monitor, watching the bandits retreat back to the edge of the property. “Commander Lilith took that freak up to Sanctuary to see Professor Tannis. Something about low energy or some kinda space-magic nonsense.”

She thought back to Troy collapsing in the medical room last night. Fighting in the camp raid must have used a large portion of what little strength he had left. Hopefully, Tannis would be able to help.

"You worried about your little boyfriend?" Cramer glared at her.

"Excuse me?" Octavia asked.

"You seem to be gettin' too big for your britches, kid. When the shit hits the fan, I know I wouldn't want to be standing next to a murdering sociopath with a god complex. You just remember whose side you're on."

Cramer lifted a calloused finger to point at the security monitor. “If they set one foot inside that fence, call me. Toot sweet.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, as he left. She was happy he chose not to stick around.

Octavia turned her attention back to the screen. She watched the bandits start a campfire and get comfortable. It was clear they had no intention of leaving any time soon. They knew Troy was here. It was a matter of time before word spread to the COV. Troy was labeled a heretic and left for dead, and Raz was a deserter. When Tyreen found out that both of them were not only alive but also with the Crimson Raiders, they’d all be in big trouble.

One more cup of tea. All this stress was bad for the heart. She poured hot water over the dried flower petals. The aroma was sweet and floral. Soothing. She cradled the mug in both hands and held it close, allowing the steam to warm her face.

Her eyes closed of their own accord while she drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Sunlight washed over Octavia’s skin while she lay on the plush green grass. A gentle breeze carried the melodic trilling of songbirds. She could almost taste the nectar from the blossoms of her literal flower bed.

“What have I told you about napping in the sun, child?”

She propped herself up on her elbows to see an elderly woman standing over her, arms akimbo, shading her from the sun overhead. The woman’s silver hair hung in long braids over her shoulders. The wrinkles of her face were further deepened by the look of disapproval she wore.

“Not to?”

"Exactly. As pretty as you are, you're not a flower. You'll fry to a crisp," the woman scolded. There was no denying the difference between the woman's deep copper skin tone and Octavia's porcelain complexion. No matter how she tried, Octavia didn't tan. She burned.

"I know. Sorry, Etsi." Octavia stood, allowing the woman to fuss over her by plucking a leaf from her hair and lifting the sleeve of her shirt to check for a tan line.

Etsi tutted. "I'm going to have to make more cyro vine salve. You really must take care of yourself, child. I can't watch out for you all the time, you know."

"I do take care of myself. I learn from the best, after all."

Compliments usually calmed Etsi down enough to distract her from her lectures. She playfully pinched Octavia's cheek and said, "You've got that right."

"Did I miss lunch?" Octavia asked.

"Not yet," Etsi replied, "but you'd better hurry to the hut before the bottomless pit eats it all."

With that, Octavia made a run for the hut. She rushed through the center of the village. A couple of her neighbors greeted her as they hung racks of herbs to dry in the sun.

When she reached the hut, she threw open the leather entrance flap to find the culprit red handed, picking off the last scraps of food from the platter on the table. His black braided hair whipped around, deep brown eyes darting to the hut's entrance to identify the intruder. Upon noticing who it was, an impish smile spread across his face.

"You didn't," Octavia said, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh, but I did," he said, licking each of his fingers. He crossed the room to stand in front of her. "You fell asleep again, didn't you? You snooze, you lose."

"It shouldn't matter. Now you owe me lunch."

"What, are you going to beat me up and take my lunch money?" He raised a broad eyebrow and waited for a response. All he got was a stern silence as Octavia crossed her arms. He apparently didn't like that answer. The man scooped her up in his arms and started tickling her.

"Ah ha ha, stop! Okay, okay! Mercy!" she pleaded through laughter. He put her down but kept his arms around her. Octavia pouted a bit, still giggling, "You're lucky you're cute, Atohi."

He pulled her closer and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "Very lucky," he agreed.

Octavia closed her eyes, enjoying the security of being held in Atohi's arms. This was safe. This was home. This was... wrong. Screams came from the distance outside. Atohi didn't move, his face still buried in her neck. "Did you hear that? Something's wrong." The screams grew louder and closer. Octavia tried to pry herself away from the embrace. "Hey, knock it off!"

After finally breaking free, she shoved him away. "What's the matter with-" she choked on her words when the room burst into flames before her eyes. Atohi, standing motionless, was consumed in the fire. She watched his smooth copper skin turn black and peel off in strands.

"No!" Octavia cried. Atohi slumped to the floor as nothing more than a smoldering corpse. The smell of burnt flesh now accompanied her tribemate's screams.

The blaze crept its way up Octavia's body. She flailed as it spread, batting at the flames that felt like a swarm of a thousand varkids stinging her at once. The scorching heat seared her throat, making it impossible to breath or scream.

From the raging inferno emerged an insect-like humanoid creature. It's pale face was emotionless, eyes black and hollow. It hovered through the air as it approached. Over the roaring fire, Octavia could almost hear it laughing.

~~~

“Hey,” said a gravelly voice.

Octavia’s eyes snapped open.

The voice spoke again, “Sorry to wake you, but I assumed you’d want to be relieved for shift change. Slow day, eh?” Raz stood in the doorway.

“Right, shift change. Yeah,” Octavia said, adjusting to reality. She pulled at her shirt sleeves to ensure her scarred arms were concealed. She must've fallen asleep on the job. “I guess I'm just tired. Things have been pretty crazy lately.”

Raz nodded, stroking his beard. “I know what you mean.”

Of course he did. She was part of the reason things were so crazy for him. Octavia continued, “Sorry for… you know. Sorry if you lost anyone because of us.”

Raz took a seat next to her at the desk. “Nah. My favorites made it through, anyway. So no worries.”

Octavia offered a cup of tea, which had long since gone cold.

“I’m more of a coffee man. Smells lovely though. What is it?” he asked, peering into the cup of gold colored liquid.

“It’s herbal. Laney flowers. It has effective calming properties, and it’s also popularly used in aromatherapy,” she said. Not to mention the flowers grew in beautiful red whorls which made for a striking centerpiece.

“Bit of a tea snob?” Raz teased.

“More like a botany snob. I grew up around medicine women and became an herbalist. So if you ever need to know the difference between kragweed and sneezewort, I’m your girl.”

Raz chuckled. “Good to know. An herbalist raised by medicine women, you say? Runs in the family, sounds like.”

“I don’t know. I never knew my family," After her nightmare, Octavia felt like she needed to get some of this off her chest. "I was raised in a village on Promethea. I know when most people hear ‘Promethea’, they think of a busy metropolitan city, not a minimalistic tribe living off the grid and surviving off of the land. They had a profound respect for life. So much, in fact, that they didn’t believe in defending themselves when they were attacked. The entire village was wiped out.” A lump formed in her throat. “I really miss them.”

“I’m truly sorry to hear that, love. It's best to try not to dwell in loss, take it from a former COV general. You’ll go mad.”

Octavia could only imagine what kind of things the twins made him do, the people he’s killed and comrades he’s lost. “Do you miss the Children of the Vault?”

“That’s a difficult question,” He seemed prepared for her to ask about it. Reaching into his hip pouch, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He stuck one between his lips, lit it with a match, and took a long drag. Smoke puffed from his bearded mouth while he continued. “I was on the run from Hyperion on Elpis. I managed to escape to Pandora. I was alone, wounded, starving. The Calypsos gave me a second chance at life in exchange for my service. In a sense, I’m indebted to them. Very backwards, that lot. From what I gather, they had a troubled childhood. That kind of thing is enough to make anyone wanna take revenge on the universe. Only difference is the Calypsos are powerful enough to actually get it.”

Uneasiness crept into her chest. “Do we need to be worried about Troy?”

“I’ve worked with Troy for a long time. I'm confident enough to say probably not, especially after getting the boot from his sister.” Well, that wasn’t exactly comforting. “I'll also tell you that the God King and Troy Calypso are not the same. That’s all I’m able to say without the risk of being flayed. But keep in mind that there’s more to that man than just what he wants you to see.”

Talk about cryptic. She wasn’t sure if she felt reassured or even more concerned. Many videos on the EchoNet showed what the twins did to their own followers for breaking the most trivial rules. Raz seemed smart, but why would any bandit willingly leave themselves at the mercy of-

Bandits. “Shit,” she whispered. Her shoulder protested the sudden moment with a sharp pain. She winced but managed to sit up straight and scan the security monitors. The group of marauders were around their campfire just as before. No, wait. There were more. Bandits, marauders, and psychos all gathered outside the fence. It was hard to make out from the camera angle, but there must have been 15, maybe 20 now.

“Bandits came here earlier offering themselves to Troy,” she told Raz who followed her gaze to the screen. “There are over twice as many now. Oh, man. Cramer’s gonna kill me.”

“How about that,” Raz said, flicking ash from his cigarette. "It seems the God King is still attracting followers even after getting denounced.”

Thankfully, the bandits were behaving for now. It would still be a good idea to report it. “Do you mind taking over? I should go tell Cramer what’s going on. Plus, after five cups of tea, I really have to piss.”

“Sure thing.” Raz called back to her, “Oi, by the way. Me and the boys are meeting up for some good ol’ probationary fun. Now, I won’t call it a party because that would be very against the rules. You should come to this non-party and keep us fresh recruits in line, eh?”

Really? Raz wanted her to come hang out? She couldn’t remember the last time someone invited her out for something other than an assignment. “Yeah,” she nodded and couldn’t help but smile.

Raz winked and spun in his chair to face the monitors. “Get some rest, Vi. You’ve earned it.”

Thanking Raz on the way out, Octavia closed the door behind her. He didn’t seem so bad. A little guarded, but genuine. It had been a while since she'd held a conversation that wasn't work related. This one-eyed man, who she recently avoided getting shot by, was very pleasant to talk to. She gently squeezed her injured shoulder. At least she thought she avoided getting shot by him.

~~~

“And then this guy tries to rush me from behind like he’s gonna get the drop on me, right? So without even looking, I snap my fingers, and his head freakin’ explodes. It was all - _Pthbbt!_ Brains flying everywhere,” Tyreen howled in laughter. Her voice echoed throughout her enormous dressing room while her human pet sat on the floor at her feet, shaking in fear. Tyreen gave them a pat on the head and admitted, “Eh, I guess you had to be there.” 

The Calypso held an elaborate top up to her chest and inspected herself in the full length mirror. “What do you think of this one, doll?” Tyreen asked the cowering figure on the floor. Their only response was a vacant, wide eyed stare. “Hm. You’re right,” Tyreen agreed. “Too gaudy. Gotta look my best for my first solo livestream, don’t I?”

Life was good. Things couldn’t be more perfect. The Children of the Vault’s recruitment was at an alltime high, EchoNet viewership had skyrocketed, and she had it all to herself. The only person who was able to tell her ‘no’ wasn’t holding her back anymore, and Tyreen was going to celebrate in the biggest way she could think of. And today, she’d do it in front of the entire galaxy.

After tossing more rejected garments into a pile, Tyreen finally decided on an outfit: A high collared bomber jacket with spiked spaulders on each shoulder over a form fitting top and tastefully ripped jeans tucked into high top combat boots, the entire ensemble accented by her usual gold chains.

Tyreen struck a pose. “Flawless.” She beckoned to her pet, who jumped up in obedience. “I can’t play with you all day, doll. Your God Queen has work to do. You behave while I’m gone.” Tyreen slowly dragged her tongue up the pet’s cheek, then shoved them back to the floor. 

As Tyreen exited her personal chambers, she was greeted by a lanky cultist. He adjusted the pair of spectacles perched on his hooked nose and said, “Good morning, my God Queen. You look as radiant as the rising sun.” 

Tyreen waved her hand dismissively and continued walking. “Yeah, yeah. Normally, I don’t mind your ass kissing, but let’s skip it today.”  
The gaunt man followed closely at her heels. “Yes, of course. We’ve finally gathered enough participants for the Reaping ceremony. Mouthpiece is finishing preparations for the livestream as we speak. There is, however, one matter that should be discussed with the generals first.”

The God Queen rolled her eyes and groaned. “Tell them to handle it. I’m busy.”

The cultist wrung his hands. “Apologies, my Queen, but I’m told it urgently needs your attention.”

The Calypso stopped in her tracks. The irritation was visibly bubbling up within her. _This better be good,_ she thought as she stormed her way through the complex to meet with the generals. Things had been going so perfectly. This was her day. If anything got in the way, she’d make sure to completely obliterate the one at fault. Tyreen threw open the doors and burst into the room where the COV generals had gathered. Upon their queen’s entrance, the generals genuflected before her. 

“Okay, here I am. What’s so ‘urgent’ that I needed to come down here and tell you idiots how to do your job?” 

The generals each looked to one another. No one wanted to be the one to break the news. “My queen, it… it’s Troy. He’s alive.”

Fire flashed around Tyreen, then again as she instantly appeared in front of the general. She snatched him up by the throat with one arm. She snarled, “You brought me here to tell me _that?_ I was the one that Firehawked his ass out of here. I know he’s alive.”

“Yes,” the man choked out. “He’s been spotted h-helping the Crimson Raiders.”

Tyreen lost patience. The helpless general clawed at his throat as his skin turned black and flaked off of his body. The remains crumbled into a pile on the floor.

The siren brushed the dust off of her hands. “So Troy joined up with the Crimson Traitor heretics. Hey, if the shoe fits… Whatever. It won’t make a difference.” Tyreen pointed to the hologram of an Eridian symbol hovering over the table at the center of the room. “Status report. When will I have it?”

“Soon, God Queen,” said another general. “We just have to locate the final piece.”

 _Always finding some way to hold me back. Right, little brother?_ She already knew Troy had hidden the last piece from her. If only he had followed her. It was supposed to be both of them, conquering the galaxy as Gods together. It was their birthright. But Troy had gone soft somewhere along the way. He had found a way to keep her from what was rightfully hers. That kind of betrayal was unforgivable.

An uncomfortable silence had fallen over the room. The remaining COV generals nervously awaited their God’s response. She said, “I wanna call Lil. It’s been a while since I’ve flaunted her own powers in front of her. And I really should make sure she’s being nice to my dear brother.”


	6. Gut Instincts

How long had it been? Days, weeks? Troy lost track of time while he’d been slowly starving to death. Since his excommunication, each moment blurred into the next as whatever he possessed of the leech power fed off of his own body. Finally, he had some relief. He couldn’t help but be grateful for the scientist’s carelessness during the lab experiments. That was the first time he’d taken from any siren apart from his twin. It felt very different. This energy was more restless than he was used to. Maybe this what Ty meant by saying she could taste what she leeched.

Now that Troy had some extra juice, he felt incredible. Even after Lilith dumped him in Sanctuary’s garage on the bottom deck, he was amped. And what did Troy do when he was hyped up and left to his own devices? He beatboxed. The Calypso bobbed his head and swayed to the groove, bustling around the room and inspecting the equipment. He had to admit, it wasn’t a bad setup. He knew everyone was talking about him, probably deciding where to eject him into space, but he wished they’d hurry it up already.

He paused when a noise from nearby threw off his rhythm. A beep came again from a cluttered desk. With no regard to the desk owner’s privacy, he opened one of the drawers to find an Echo device inside. It was an older model, but obviously still in working condition. Troy glanced over his shoulder and scanned the room for cameras before putting the Echo on silent mode and slipping it into his pocket.

“Hey.”

Troy reeled around, startled from the voice and saw the blue haired siren descending the stairs into the workshop.

“Relax,” the sapphire siren said. She wiped the dust off a tool box and casually leaned against it. “Don't look so guilty. I, uh… Sorry for phase-chucking you across Tannis’s lab. You alright?” 

Oh. He wasn't busted after all. Still, Troy couldn’t help but be suspicious. No way she cared to chat. Probably cared even less about hurting him. A golden canine glinted through his lopsided smile. “I did ask for it, didn’t I? But yeah, I’m good. No hard feelings, Meg.”

“It’s Maya,” she said, obviously annoyed. “Get it right next time. Okay, Trent?”

 _Excuse me?_ Troy furrowed his brow and glared at her. She wore a playful smirk and raised her eyebrows as if daring him to correct her. Interesting. She was messing with him.

“Alright then, Maya. Let’s hear it already,” he folded his arms across his chest. “Are you guys gonna launch me into the nearest sun? Or does the scientist want me as a lab rat for unethical tests? Whatever it is, please don’t tell me it’s life in prison. That’s boring. I deserve something creative.”

Maya shook her head. “Oh, no. You don’t get off that easy. You’re still helping us fight the COV.”

Troy cocked his to one side, analyzing the siren in a skeptical stare. As hard he looked for the smallest hint that she was full of shit, her body language suggested she was telling the truth. He huffed, “So what, no punishment then? I figured the Firehawk would want this handsome mug served on a silver platter.”

Maya gave a one shouldered shrug. “You said you didn’t leech Tannis on purpose. Sometimes powers are weird like that. With some training, you might be able to control it.”

Easy for her to say. If only it was as simple as meditating on a mountain to master his broken siren powers. “Ah, right. You’re from Athenas. I’m sure those monks taught you all about control and restraint, great power is great responsibility, blah-blah-blah. But it’s pretty safe to say that I’m a special case. Clearing my chakras isn’t gonna do it for me.” 

“It would at least help with that attitude of yours.”

Troy began pacing and brought his flesh hand to his chin. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be considered very zen if I accidentally ended up leeching you. Then again, you might taste like chamomile tea.” He cast a half-hearted sideways glance in Maya’s direction.

Maya rapidly drummed her fingernails on the tool box and said, “I take it back. I’m not sorry for phaselocking you.”

“That’s what I thought,” Troy snickered. “Be honest. How many times a day do you phaselock stuff just because you can?”

Maya closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her, mimicking a monk’s prayer pose. “I take a great amount of pride in my self discipline so if you must know-” She raised her left hand, and her fingers sparked. A ball peen hammer levitated from a workbench and hovered across the room into Maya’s hand. “I do it all the time.”

Troy scoffed. “Show off.”

The two were locked in a stare down. It wasn’t clear who cracked first, but neither of them could keep a straight face for long. A gentle blue glow emitted from Maya’s siren marks. Troy’s smile dropped as he looked down to his left hand, noting the harsh red light of his own marks.

“You really didn’t know that would happen to Tannis, did you?” the blue haired woman asked softly.

“No,” he answered honestly. “I’m still trying to get a grip on everything myself.” All his life he’d been broken. His parents treated him as a burden, although they never said it outright. He was constantly sick and needed extra help when he struggled with the use of only one arm. And Tyreen never considered him an equal. Even as one of the twin gods, he wasn’t seen in the same light as the God Queen. And now that he knew he possessed siren power without knowing it, his whole outlook was in question. What did it mean? What other parts of himself remained untapped?

Maya said, “Even if it’s only half, you’re still a siren. It’s not an easy life. Sirens have always been feared, hunted, extorted… worshipped.” Troy met her blue-gray eyes for a moment, then redirected his gaze to the wall. “We’re just trying to find our place.”

Troy’s heart skipped a beat. _**We?**_

“Yeah,” he said in a voice just above a whisper. He snapped out of it and quipped, “But, you gotta admit. Life would sure be a lot easier if I could phaselock grapes into my mouth all day.” 

Maya scrunched up her face and flung an empty can at Troy, who reflexively caught it in his mechanical hand with a metallic clang. He waved it, shook his head, and grinned at her.

“Nice catch, wise-ass. Now, get in the drop pod,” Maya teased.

That tiny thing? Troy had used porta-potties with more legroom than that. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Troy groaned. The siren smiled wickedly as she held the hatch open and ushered him inside. He sighed knowing the ride back to Pandora would not be a comfortable one.

~~~

On a normal day, Ellie was a delight. Today was not a normal day considering her garage was used as solitary confinement for one of the most hated influencers in the galaxy. Maya recalled her saying, _“He’s about as welcome as an outhouse breeze.”_ It took a while to convince the mechanic that her garage was just as she left it. Eventually, she cooled her boiling blood down to a simmer.

If Maya was being honest, she didn’t actually believe that Troy hadn’t messed with something. Call it a gut feeling. The same gut feeling that knew Ava would be a siren someday. The same gut feeling that told her to go talk to Troy just now. Her gut hadn’t lied to her yet so she didn’t question it. The ex-God King was absolutely still on thin ice, but she was willing to give him a chance. Maybe he just needed some guidance. Either that or he was a hopeless, cocky little shit.

Hydraulics hissed from the rising door as Maya entered the ship’s bridge. The orbital view of Pandora loomed outside the windows of Sanctuary’s observation deck. Crew members clacked away on keyboards at their posts. Lilith and Tannis stopped mid-conversation when they noticed Maya approaching.

“Troy’s on his way back to base,” Maya announced, slightly out of breath from rushing up three flights of stairs. “Cramer should be waiting for him when he lands. What did I miss?” she asked when she noticed neither of them would look her in the eye.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about Tannis sooner. I decided the fewer people that knew about it, the better. These days, being a siren puts a target on your back,” Lilith apologized. 

The revelation that the two of them were keeping Tannis’s siren powers a secret was shocking to say the least, but Maya wasn’t upset. She understood. Her own siren powers had been used by others to threaten an entire planet’s population. “I get it. I’m glad to have another siren on our side.” Maya smiled at the scientist, who awkwardly returned the gesture. It was cute when she made an effort.

“How are you, Tannis?” Maya asked.

“I'm fine. No need to fuss,” Tannis said. “It was actually interesting to experience the leech power first hand.”

Lilith knitted her brows. “Troy could have killed you. We still don’t know his intentions. Who knows what other abilities he’s hiding.”

Maya recalled the look of shock on Troy’s face while he held Tannis’s wrist, and the way he kept his distance from the two sirens afterwards as they processed what the hell just happened. After the conversation she’d just had with the Calypso, Maya felt the need to voice her opinion. “It seems like he doesn't understand his abilities either. I really don’t think he leeched Tannis on purpose.”

The commander was unconvinced. “Even if that’s true, we can’t underestimate what he’s capable of. This is still Troy Calypso.” Lilith stared out of the window at Pandora below. “For now, he’s useful to us. We’re going to need all the power we can get. It’s about time to make our move on the Holy Broadcast Center. There’s been a lot of activity lately. I’ve got a feeling something big is about to go down.”

Claptrap’s eardrum piercing voice called from the command console, “Incoming transmission!”

Speak of the devil. Maya’s heart sank as Tyreen’s smug face appeared on the overhead monitors. She was beginning to wonder if the COV had tapped their coms. Their timing was unusually coincidental.

“Hey, Lil!” the cult leader said in a singsong voice. “How’s life been as a non-siren normie human? Does it suck? I bet it sucks. Not gonna lie, these powers of yours are pretty sweet.” Lilith was seething. Tyreen had a knack for getting under her skin. The Calypso continued, “But hey, you don’t have to take my word for it. You know someone who knows all about my Firehawk upgrade. Just ask my brother.”

Damn. Word had finally reached her. Now Tyreen knew the Crimson Raiders were harboring her disowned twin.

“By the way, did that traitorous freak happen to mention the fact that he stole something from me? Can you believe it? Yoinked it right out from under me. I don’t want your grubby normie fingerprints on my stuff so if he shared it with you, I’m gonna need it back.”

Lilith calmly replied, “I assumed you’d know better since you were the one who dumped him in the middle of nowhere. He wasn’t exactly in any condition to exchange gifts when we found him. He’d been stripped and unarmed.”

Tyreen paused before shrieking with laughter. “She said _unarmed!_ Please tell me you meant to make that pun.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “I needed that. No big deal. It’s a matter of time until I find it anyway. Well, I’ve got places to be. Big milestone event coming up. You’re gonna love it. Oh, and tell Troy I said hi before he runs outta juice and shrivels up. 'Kay? Laterz!” The Calypso winked before the feed was cut.

Maya’s fists tingled with the urge to meet that punchable face. She hollered back at the empty screen, “Troy will be the one kicking your door in, you cocky bitch!”

Claptrap said something about the video transmission’s crappy production value, but no one was listening. Lilith grit her teeth. “Using Troy was the plan, but that’s only if we can keep him alive long enough to get there.”

Maya squeezed her fists tighter, causing her fingernails to dig into her palms. Tyreen was always one step ahead of them. She couldn’t care less that her brother was in the Raider’s custody. Because of Troy’s dependence on her, she never even saw him as a threat.

Tannis chimed, “I have a theory, but you aren’t going to like it, Lilith.” All eyes turned to the scientist. “It is apparent that Troy cannot absorb the life force from living things through touch alone, with the exception of sirens. According to my experiments, it’s highly plausible that he can gain the same effect by ingesting it directly via anthropophagy or hematophagy.”

The room was silent apart from the humming of the spaceship. Maya blinked and said, “Tannis, no one understands you when you talk like that. In layman’s terms, please?”

Tannis sighed in disappointment but explained, “Troy should be able to regain energy from cannibalism or drinking blood.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! Sorry this update took so long. I've been working through a serious creative block. This chapter is a bit short, mostly plot setup. But I hope it was still entertaining. As always, comments and feedback are encouraged. I want to thank each and everyone of you for continuing to read my garbage. <3


	7. Bandit Lyfe

Troy groaned in pain and anger. If every return trip from Sanctuary was going to involve being jammed into a drop pod, they’d better be few and far between. He cursed Lilith for not allowing him to sync with their New-U stations. Immediately after landing at the Crimson Raider base, the old Lieutenant ordered Troy to stay in his room, which had further soured his mood. 

Troy was restless, irritated and still buzzing with energy. He flopped onto the bed, closed his eyes, and attempted to get a grip on himself.

_Knock knock._

“What?” Troy snapped.

A gravelly voice called, “I had a feeling that was you in the drop pod.” Raz slipped inside the room. After taking one look at Troy sprawled out on bed, he added, “You look like hell.”

“You’re lucky I’m too sore to get up and strangle you,” Troy threatened half-heartedly, rubbing his aching neck. 

"I take it you didn't have much luck with the scientist," Raz guessed.

The Calypso sighed. "Nope. Managed to get a little extra gas in my tank, though. Long story," Troy indicated by waving his glowing hand before placing it over his eyes.

“Well, now. I’d say that’s cause for celebration. How about I offer you a drink to lift your spirits?”

“Aren’t you on probation?” Troy asked.

“Technically, yes. But what the higher ups don't know won’t hurt ‘em. Or would you rather be a good little Crimson Raider and stay put?” Raz winked and beckoned toward the door.

In response, Troy threw a pillow past Raz’s head hard enough for it to burst into a puff of feathers. 

Raz pulled a feather from his beard. “Hmph. Not even Octavia needed this much convincing. Suit yourself.” With a shrug, he turned to leave.

Troy lowered the second pillow he was about to chuck at his ex-general. “And you left her alone with drunk bandits?” The Calypso jumped up from the bed. He hadn’t taken two steps before he caught the suspicious looks Raz shot at him. Troy wasn’t in the mood. “Alright, you win. I need to blow off some steam anyway.” He shouldered past the shorter man, and they both made their way across the compound.

~~~

Octavia accepted the bottle of rakk ale Raz offered. “Music and booze? Did you happen to organize something that Lieutenant Cramer wouldn’t approve of?” 

“Cramer isn’t invited.” Raz opened his own bottle of ale and clinked it against hers. “Welcome to your first bandit bash.”

The ex-bandit recruits had managed to transform the small lot behind the Crimson Raider compound into a convincing outdoor pub. They handed out drinks and gathered around a bonfire while a radio played upbeat rock music. 

Even Troy had joined in on the event. Octavia hadn’t seen him since he passed out in the medical room, which had been tense and awkward. She ran her gaze over him, careful not to linger long enough to be caught staring. He had his swagger back, siren marks glowing brightly. Once everyone was confident that he wasn’t going to slaughter them, Troy became the life of the party. He was a god among bandits, after all.

Octavia wasn’t sure what she expected, but hanging with bandits was enjoyable. The burn of alcohol in the back of her throat was odd so early in the afternoon, even for a day off, but it was a welcome sensation. Her stress was melting away, emboldening her to let loose a bit. Today was just about having fun. And dammit, she deserved it.

As the day went on, Octavia had consumed enough liquid courage to unglue herself from Raz’s side. One of the younger bandit guys sat next to her at the bar. After some easy conversation and exchanging names, he declared her his new friend. She had unfairly stereotyped him as another blood thirsty idiot. He wasn’t particularly bright, but Octavia was warming up to him.

“And that’s why I don’t like stalkers. Those invisible assholes give me the creeps,” he said, slicking back his ash blonde hair.

Octavia swiveled in her chair to face him, bumping her knees against his in the close space. “So let me get this straight. You don’t think stalkers have tails, but instead have really long-”

“Of course! What else do you think that thing is for?”

“I think it’s just a tail, Collin,” Octavia laughed. 

Collin opened his mouth to argue further but was interrupted by a familiar gravelly voice. 

“Harassing the new girl already?” Raz had reappeared casually smoking at the bar beside them. 

Collin greeted him. “Did you know Octavia is gonna be working in the greenhouse? She-” Collin’s eyes widened when he noticed who was approaching. 

Troy Calypso glanced down at their knees touching with a slight raise of his eyebrows, making Octavia uncomfortable enough to scoot back. His mechanical arm reached across the bar to claim a bottle of liquor, then the Calypso turned back to the entourage following at his heels. Not staring was harder than it should have been. The way he relished in the spotlight with effortless charisma was mesmerizing. 

“What do you think, Octavia?”

Collin’s question pulled her out of her daze, and her face reddened when she realized she’d zoned out on the question.

“Um, sorry. What?”

Collin repeated, “Do you think you could get me in the greenhouse? I’d kill to get out of the shop. I keep trying to convince the foreman to let me make weapon prototypes.”

Raz butted in. “Ha! The last time you presented one of your prototypes, it blew up in your face. Literally. You singed both your eyebrows.” 

Collin sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah.” Then he held up both hands. “But I managed to keep all my fingers.”

“Real cute, punk,” Raz said, flipping the younger man half of a bird.

Octavia couldn’t help but chuckle at their banter. “Wow. You have all your teeth and fingers? Not bad for a bandit.”

Collin flashed an exaggerated smile, displaying all of his pearly whites. The radio music changed to a poppy dance song. Collin’s face lit up. “Ooh, I love this song!” He jumped up from his seat and extended his hand. “Dance with me.”

Octavia didn’t have time to decline before she was pulled from her chair into the group of bandits dancing around the fire. Even with a buzz, she was not willing to embarrass herself on the dance floor. Collin had moves that put her stiff shuffling to shame. She appreciated his help giving her little spins and twirls. She prayed she could fake it well enough to get through the song.

She glanced around the area to see how many people were watching her make a fool out of herself. Her eyes wandered to Troy, who was basking in the attention of several bandits. Her stomach fluttered when one of the women leaned in closely and whispered into his ear.

“I need another drink,” Octavia said to her dance partner. 

~~~

This was how the Calypso twins spent most of their time in the early days of the Children of the Vault. Partying with their followers, dancing to whatever played on the radio, drinking cheap alcohol. The familiarity was comforting to Troy. The difference with today was the absence of his sister outshining him. 

“I always did like you more than Tyreen,” crooned a female admirer into Troy’s ear.

“Bullshit. You were a total God Queen simp,” said another girl. 

The first woman swatted at the other for calling her out. “You bitch, I only bought her merch because the color goes better with my eyes.”

The ex-God King flashed his golden fangs. “Ya know, that right there is considered false devotion. Do you know how I used to handle the falsely devoted?” he asked sweetly. When the woman shook her head, he placed two fingers of his siren hand beneath her chin and tilted her head to the side. “It meant you'd get your pretty little throat ripped out.”

The woman was so drunk that the threat went completely unrecognized. “Pretty?” she giggled.

Troy rolled his eyes as he released her. He took a swig from the bottle clenched in his mechanical fist. Although he missed having admirers, ones like this annoyed him. Even without his twin here, he still couldn't escape her shadow.

Troy slipped away from his entourage, snuck over to the bar, and told the man behind it to mix him a drink. Where was Raz? He wanted to give him shit for setting up a bar with no lime wedges. Looking toward the edge of the lot, he spotted Octavia sitting by the fence. A young, blonde pretty-boy was attempting to get her to her feet. She shook her head, and pretty-boy gave her a pat on the shoulder before returning to the fireside to dance. Troy ordered a second cocktail and walked over to her. 

“You look thirsty,” Troy said, holding the drink out to her. “I’d say my treat, but open bar and all.”

Octavia looked up in surprise and took the cup with an appreciative smile. “I’d say thanks, but open bar and all.” She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “What’s this?”

“Lemon Lime & Bullets. Minus the lime.” Troy threw his drink down in one gulp. He watched in amusement as Octavia fished out the bullet from her own cup with her finger. 

“I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to get on my good side,” she said slyly.

“Hm, am I? I guess that depends. Is it working?” he asked with a cocky grin.

“Maybe a little,” she said, taking another sip of her now ammunition-less cocktail.

He sat on the ground beside her, rested his back against the chain link fence, and nodded toward the dancing silhouettes a short distance in front of them. “Let me guess. You don’t dance.”

“It’s not my thing,” she said.

“Aw, come on. Let me teach you some moves. Only slightly provocative ones, I promise.”

She smiled. “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”

Troy huffed, “Alright, fine. You’re no fun. If you don’t dance and you don’t even fit in with these people, what are you doing here?”

Octavia was visibly bothered by the comment. He realized how shitty that sounded and rushed to rephrase. “I mean, it’s cool you’re here. I just don’t get it. There’s a lot I don’t get about you, witchdoctor.” He ruffled her hair with his siren hand.

She pushed his hand away and smoothed her hair back into place. Troy swore he saw a hint of pink in her cheeks. “I’m not sure myself. I never come to these kinds of things, but I guess I thought it might be fun.”

“Well, are you having fun?”

She looked up to meet his eyes. “Yeah. I think I am.” 

Maybe it was the alcohol or the extra energy in his body that was making his brain fuzzy, but in that moment Troy was certain what Octavia wanted. Anticipation hung in the air, along with the suspense that comes when someone flicks their eyes down to your lips and back. She tipped her head back, just enough to give him permission, and then-

A vibration from Troy’s pocket made him jump. “What the hell?” The Echo he’d nicked from Sanctuary nearly vibrated out of his pocket. There was a message.

_//Unknown_User//: smile 4 the camera :)_

The display automatically opened a live video feed showing a man and a woman sitting on the ground with their backs against a chain link fence. Troy recognized the back of his own head. _Oh fuck._

“Boom time, heretics!” a voice shouted from behind.

Thinking fast, Troy grabbed Octavia and shielded her against the blast. The force from the explosion sent the two of them tumbling across the ground.

“Vi, you need to run.”

“B-but what-,” she squeaked. 

“Now!” he ordered, and she took off toward the base.

The fence had been blown open. Bandits and psychos were pouring inside, firing guns and swinging buzzaxes. Cambots floated through the air above, recording the onslaught.

“Alright then, party crashers. Let's dance.” Troy opened his mechanical hand, and his sword digistructed into his palm. A smile spread impossibly wide across his face until the jaw split open at the modified hinges. The God King slashed through the crowd, decapitating and disemboweling. He roared, shredding throats open with his jaws. Psychos screamed as he crushed their skulls in his mechanical hand. The popping of bone, the squishing of flesh, the warmth of blood. _So much red._ It was a rush of euphoria.

A cambot hovered overhead focused on Troy. The Calypso snatched up a bandit by the neck. “You assholes weren't invited,” he growled, somewhat garbled through his open jaws.

The bandit choked, “Tyreen will protect me...The Reaping... shall purge-” The rest was lost as neck tendons stretched and snapped until the bandit’s head was ripped off. Troy flung the severed head at the cambot, sending it spinning through the air.

Alarms sounded from the Crimson Raider base. Soldiers emerged from the building and joined the fight against the invaders. Across the lot, Raz shot at multiple cultists who were retreating with a large metal cage. Troy sprinted over to him. “Raz, it’s the Reaping.”

“I know. The bloody bastards are taking prisoners,” Raz yelled, reloading his rifle. 

More cages were being hauled outside the fence and loaded into COV vehicles. Troy gave chase, using the broad side of his blade to block the barrage of gunfire. He reached the nearest cage and slashed into the cultists. _So much red._ Troy pulled the door off the hinges and freed the Raider recruits inside. Another cage was nearby. 

“Let me go!” cried out the voice of Octavia. Her hands swung at her captors from within the bars.

Troy made a run for it. His blood boiled. Every single one of these fuckers was going to die. Everything he saw was red. _Red._ With his blade raised, prepared to carve these cultists into pieces, he was blindsided with a sucker punch to the face. The blow made him stumble.

Double images swirled in Troy’s vision until he shook it off. Before him stood a familiar white haired siren, wiping away specks of his blood from her knuckles. “Well, this is annoying. I thought you’d be dead by now, but here you are chumming it up with the Crimson Traitors,” said Tyreen.

Troy’s jaws clicked shut so he could properly articulate. “Guess you’re just getting sloppy. The God Queen must be losing her touch,” he snarled and lunged at Tyreen. She easily dodged him with a sidestep, but Troy kept running past her. Octavia’s cage had been dragged outside of the fence. He could make it.

“Stop running, dear brother. Fight me!”

“What’s the matter, Ty? Can’t keep up?”

In a flash of fire, Tyreen teleported in front of him. Putting all his momentum behind it, the taller Calypso slammed his metal fist into the side of his twin’s head. Tyreen lost her footing and was thrown back several feet. Once again, he ran for the cage now being loaded into a COV vehicle. He could still make it. Troy was close enough to see the fear in those cultists’ eyes. 

An electric pain hit Troy in the back, halting him in his tracks. It spread in a fiery trail through his entire body. He gasped, pulling air into his burning lungs. Still he continued moving forward, watching the world blur through his eyelashes. 

“Do you actually care about what happens to a bunch of vault thief wannabes?” Tyreen asked, slowly approaching with purple sparks dancing around her fingertips.

Another shot of electricity ripped through his insides. Troy squeezed his eyes closed. He felt his fingernails dragging across the dirt, not remembering when he hit the ground. He forced one eye open to see the COV vehicles pulling off.

A sharp kick to Troy’s stomach lurched his guts, causing bile to rise in his throat. Tyreen grabbed a fistful of his black hair and lifted his head, forcing him to watch her follower’s vehicles speeding away. “You do care, don’t you? Which one is it, I wonder.” The siren signaled to a cambot overhead. It swooped down and displayed a projection before the two of them.

They were scenes of the party from earlier today. It cycled from the dancers around the bonfire to Troy surrounded by admirers to people laughing at the bar to… Troy involuntarily whimpered at the image. 

“Jackpot,” Tyreen smiled wickedly. The projection showed Troy and Octavia, sitting on the ground together. “She _is_ cute. Don’t worry, Troy. I’ll take good care of her.”

With more strength than someone her size should rightfully possess, Tyreen lifted her brother by the throat with one arm. Troy gagged and clawed at the fingers closing around his airways. Her blue siren marks pulsed as she activated her powers. 

“Now, do me a favor and die this time.”

Troy struggled against the leech. His chest throbbed as his movements shifted the crystals forming inside it. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t scream. He felt his eyes water, and his arms went limp at his sides. 

_I wasn’t strong enough... I’m sorry._

~~~

“Eat shit, devil bitch!”

Lieutenant Cramer’s rocket hit the Calypsos, detonating into a plume of smoke and fire. Raz was concerned for Troy due to the size of the blast, but they were out of options, and Cramer was out of patience.

A hush fell over the field. The remaining Raiders and recruits had their sights focused on the smoke cloud, unable to see the twins inside it. Raz steadied his breath aiming down his rifle’s scope. 

Suddenly, something came flying from the smoke and landed heavily on the ground in front of the Raiders. Raz’s heart sank when he noticed the lifeless form of Troy lying before him. His skin was grey and glistened with purple crystals. Raz had to resist the urge to run to him. The God Queen emerged from the dust, not showing an ounce of remorse.

“Ya know, it is too easy taking your stuff. I was hoping for something more than just a few sparks,” Tyreen brushed the dust from her jacket. “I’m starting to feel kinda bad for you, so I’ll leave you a participation trophy.” She pointed to her brother’s form in the dirt and laughed maniacally. 

“Open fire!” commanded Cramer. The air erupted with thundering gunfire. The siren was too quick. She teleported out of sight in a flash of flames.

Raz rushed to the fallen Calypso, sliding on his knees. The light of his siren marks was dead, small crystals sprouted from his body in clusters. The bearded man put an ear to the cold skin of Troy’s bare chest. A heartbeat. The son of a bitch was still alive.

“He’s alive!” Raz yelled.

Cramer spoke into his Echo, “Base to Sanctuary. Commander Lilith, Tyreen and her cultists attacked us. Many injured, more M.I.A. and Troy’s about to find out if the Great Vault exists because he’s a few breaths away from death.”

Raz could hear Lilith’s voice from where he still knelt by Troy’s side. “Damn! We’ll get them back, don’t worry. But we can’t afford to lose Troy now.” Lilith paused. “We don’t have any other choice. Give him blood.”

Raz looked the body up and down, then spoke up, “But he hasn’t lost much blood.”

“No.” Lilith sighed into the Echo, bracing herself for what she was about to say. “He needs to drink blood. Tannis thinks... There’s no time to explain. Just do it.”

_No rest for the wicked. Eh, mate? Just hold on a little longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter! This was a long one. Thank you to everyone who was patient and stuck with me. I do still plan to finish this story. I'm excited to hear what you think. What do you think will happen to Octavia? Will Troy be able to recover? I'll let you know soon. :P


End file.
